Graveyard of Dreams
by aindah
Summary: Continuation of the Dream Walker. Yaoi. OOCness. Noncon. Violence. Renji and Byakuya are apart, and while Renji struggles with loneliness and betrayal he becomes an important tool for Aizen's coup d'etat.
1. The Homecoming

_**AN** - There will be some new characters in the Graveyard of Dreams. There will be some OOCness, although I tried to keep it as low as possible. There will also be a lot more going on here than in the Dream Walker. I feel obliged to warn you about impending violence, noncon and all the stuff that makes a fanfic M rated. And yes, there are no chicks in this story. It's a man's world. _

_I added a short summary of the Dream Walker, and some explanations of the religion this AU is based on, just to make it easier to understand. Feel free to skip it if you read the Dream Walker, and/or if you don't need any clarification._

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><p><em><strong>Summary of the Dream Walker<strong> - One rainy night Abarai Renji wandered, wounded and weak, into the East Fenore monastery, where he met Kuchiki Byakuya. The East Fenore monastery is the HQ of the Yumearuku order, led by Zaraki Kenpachi, the First. Their religion is based on controlling people's (bad) behaviour through dreams, and they are called dream walkers. Byakuya develops a strong interest for Renji, after he is made to walk through his dream, and he breaks all the rules he upheld during his 30 years of service. The high priests of the order find out about his transgression and he is punished accordingly. After Zaraki Kenpachi learns of the true nature (of the sexual kind) of Byakuya's interest, he allows the two men to spend three days together. He allows this only after Renji accepted the offer to join the order and to be transferred to West Fenore. During the three days Renji and Byakuya spend together, they realize just how much they have risked to be together, to satisfy their desires. Byakuya goes back to East Fenore. Renji goes to take his place in the West Fenore monastery, where Aizen Sousuke has some plans of his own._

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><p><em><strong>Info on the Yumearuku religion<strong>_

_This is a religion which uses control of REM waves to maintain order and propriety as proscribed by the Scriptures. Members of the order are obliged to take pills which prolong their life span, and are highly addictive - once you stop taking them you have a year or so to live. Depending on the strength of the dream walker and of the frequency of dream walking, the person taking the pill eventually develops a resistance. After this happens the priest has to leave the monastery._

_Another pill exists in this AU. The so called training pill. This red pill enables trainees to enter dreams before they are able to isolate the REM waves on their own. These red pills were a part of the punishment Byakuya received once his transgression was discovered, and they enabled Renji to enter Byakuya's dreams without receiving extensive training. Kurotsuchi Mayuri's household (consisting of his deacon, lesser priests and servants attached to the household) is in charge of producing these pills, as well as life-span pills._

_Zaraki Kenpachi is the First of the Yumearuku order, Kuchiki Byakuya is the Second. There are five high priests in East Fenore, and four in West Fenore. Although Aizen Sousuke bears the title of the Second, he is in fact the Second of the West Fenore, and not of the whole order. Each of the high priests has a main servant and a deacon. Deacons are priests of a lower level, superior to lesser priests._

_One of the rules to which the members of the Yumearuku order adhere is strict celibacy. This is explained in the Scriptures as necessary due to the strenuous activity of dream walking. Dream walkers have the ability to control people's thoughts (within the dream). The level of self-control, mental composure and control over ones consciousness which this ability entails are severely compromised by unruly desires and thoughts. Emotional attachments are discouraged, but tolerated to a certain extent._

_Another rule prohibits walking through the dreams of the person the priest is acquainted with. This rule is imperative, because one of the most important things in dream walking are detachment and objectivity. The only person allowed to perform dream walking, regardless of the person, is the acting First of the Yumearuku order. The First is also the only person who can perform long-distance dream walking, and he passes this knowledge to his successor. This rule exists because (powerful) dream walkers possess the ability to influence people's minds and their thoughts and desires._

And now, the sequel to the Dream Walker ...

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><p><strong>Ch01. The Homecoming<strong>

Kuchiki Byakuya heard the gate behind him come to a screeching halt. It felt like a prison cell was locked, and the key thrown away forever. He took a deep breath, resolved to carry on where he'd left off. He had to go back to the time before that stormy night, before Abarai Renji, before the awakening of something unknown and desirous within him. Another deep breath was necessary for him to start walking towards the office of Zaraki Kenpachi, the man who knew, the man who, Byakuya suspected, understood.

It was early, the morning dew still clung to the grass and the sun still struggled against the clouds to show that it was time for a new beginning. Byakuya did not expect to see anyone awake, except for Zaraki Kenpachi, who had visited him in his dream, reminding him that he was waiting for his return. It was like Kenpachi knew he had second thoughts about fulfilling his duty.

_He appeared in his dream, just when he was informing Renji of his decision to give up his life, his calling. Kenpachi did not accuse him of not being loyal, which surprised Byakuya. He did not even acknowledge Byakuya's desire to abandon the order and leave with Renji. Instead, he calmly reminded him of what was expected of him. Kenpachi made sure that Byakuya understood the risks he had taken when he named Byakuya his successor. He reminded him of what pains he had to go through to explain his decision to the Governor. The First did not fail to explain just how dangerous it would be if someone was to find out that he had allowed him to engage in an illicit relationship with another member of the order. All thoughts of days with Renji dissipated and turned into a distant vision of a future never to be._

When he entered the office, he was surprised by the sight in front of him. Kenpachi was sitting in his usual, elevated place, Yumichika at his feet. The First had his eyes closed and, if it was not for the hand stroking Yumichika's hair, Byakuya would have thought him sound asleep. The pair did not stir when Byakuya greeted them with a simple _Good morning._ Slowly, they opened their eyes. It took them a few minutes to actually see and acknowledge that Byakuya was standing in front of them.

Byakuya bowed when Kenpachi responded to his arrival. The effort he'd put in bowing down sent an electric shock through his body, tensing each muscle, reminding him of all the places Renji had been allowed to explore. He shivered, at the same time wanting the pain to go away, and to stay with him forever.

"It's good to have you back, Kuchiki-sama," Kenpachi said. Yumichika used the opportunity to slide out of the office, unnoticed.

"It's good to be back," Byakuya answered.

"Is it really? You don't seem thrilled."

"I am tired from the journey, Zaraki-sama, that is all." It was not a lie, the journey back proved to be strenuous to the body he had surrendered to Renji's abuse.

"The journey? Are you sure that's all?" the First inquired. He wanted to make sure that he was clear when he visited Byakuya's dream. Abarai Renji was not to be mentioned. He was not to be dreamed of. He was as good as dead.

"What else was there?" Byakuya asked, each word a betrayal, a painful insult. A blatant, but necessary lie meant to convince him more than Kenpachi.

"Good. Then go and have some rest. Tomorrow we start."

"Start with what, Zaraki-sama?"

"With the final training. I am tired, Byakuya. It is time for you to learn that which I had learned from my predecessor."

"So soon?"

"Yes. I feel the time for me to go is near. I will teach you that which only I know. Eventually, you will meet the Governor of the Fenore region, and he will officially name you the First of the Yumearuku order."

"Zaraki-sama, I am not sure that I am capable..."

"Shut up, Kuchiki Byakuya. You _are_ capable. The momentary lapse of your determination is gone, is it not? You have decided to do what you are meant to do, or am I wrong?"

"No, you are not wrong. I, I'm just ..." What was he? Dead inside? Unable to go on?

"You are tired from your journey home."

"Yes."

"You need to rest."

"Yes."

"Go and rest, then. And remember your promise."

"I remember, Zaraki-sama," Byakuya replied and turned to leave. The chime of the bells made him stop. Kenpachi's looming presence cast a shadow over his entire being, making him shudder. He truly was exhausted.

"Do you remember, Byakuya?" the voice coming from above him was deep, menacing. He did not know what he did to make Kenpachi so volatile, so quick to reproach him.

"I do," he said, determined, his voice unyielding.

"Good," he heard Kenpachi say as he was walking away from him, the voice somewhat softer.

"Because I wouldn't want to find out that you left those red pills with Abarai Renji. I most certainly wouldn't want you to feign surprise if, God forbids, he visited your dreams."

"I will keep him out," Byakuya said. Did he really think that he could hide anything from Kenpachi? It was stupid to believe that the First did not know about Renji returning those pills to Byakuya. It was downright retarded to hope he did not notice that Byakuya had left them in the cottage.

"Byakuya, this is necessary. If you weren't here, the only man apt to take my place would be Aizen. I do not have time to break in a new Second, and the Governor would hear nothing of it, even if I wanted to try." It was closest to an apology Kenpachi could muster, and Byakuya felt sincere regret and urgency behind those words.

"Thank you, Zaraki-sama. I will not betray your confidence again," Byakuya said.

"You never did, Kuchiki-sama. And I've always known you would not."

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><p>Byakuya took his clothes off, and felt the tension and pain in his body subside as he lowered himself onto the futon in his old, familiar room. Kenpachi had seemed convinced beyond a doubt that he would come back. He did not understand the trust the First placed in him. It made no sense to blindly believe in the loyalty of a man such as himself, a man who relented, who surrendered himself so easily to the most base, primordial instincts. A man? The words he said to Renji came back to him.<p>

_"After what I've let you do to me, I doubt I'll ever be able to call myself a man again."_

How could he have said something like that? It was true enough, but was it really necessary to voice it so cruelly? He should have said how grateful he was for those days they spent together. He should have told him that he never imagined such pleasure existed in this world. He should have told him that, until he met him, he did not even dream that he was capable of such emotions. Renji taught him that he was capable to feel and express unrestrained passion.

"_You cannot fathom what I have given to you " _ should have been _"You cannot fathom what you have given me."_

It was wrong from the beginning, as good as it felt. It felt natural enough to end it the same way; not the right way, not with the words that should be said, but with the words that could be said.

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><p>Renji took his time getting to the West Fenore monastery. He took his time erasing any visible signs of having cried like a little child. He sat in the cottage for hours, trying to convince himself that life would let him see Byakuya again, not only in his dreams, but in reality. Life has a way of making things right. There is a force in the world which moves things in the right direction, and he had to hope that Byakuya and him together was the right thing for the world, for the two of them.<p>

From outside, the monastery in West Fenore looked identical to the one he had left four days ago. He rang the bell and it took a few minutes for the large gate to open. When it opened a blonde, young man showed his tired face and gave him an equally tired smile. The left side of his face was almost completely hidden behind the hair, but Renji could notice that the man with intricately arranged hair had blue eyes. The first thing he noticed as different in comparison to East Fenore was the intricate garment wrapped around the man's lean body. It was as white as snow, heavily embroidered in black. Floral embroidery covered only his sleeves and his waist. It looked uncomfortable, tight fitted, with a high collar: the blond man could not lower his head more than an inch or two.

"Welcome," the blonde spoke in a monotone, and showed Renji in. The concourse was reminiscent of the East Fenore, but the buildings seemed bigger, and sturdier. The overall impression was strange, because if Renji did not know better, he could swear that the monastery in West Fenore was the one in which the First of the Yumearuku order resided. There was no dirt under his feet, only grey, smooth stone. Soon he will learn that West Fenore was all about appearances; very little attention was given to substance.

He paced carefully because he had no idea what and who awaited him. The blond man seemed harmless enough, but he was just a member, and a member who went around opening gates. Sure, it was Kuchiki Byakuya who opened the gate for Renji that night, but this man was too timid to be compared to the great Second.

"I am Izuru Kira," the blond said, another tired smile appearing on his face. "I am the deacon to the Second."

Renji shook the offered hand. "Abarai Renji," he said dryly. "So you're Aizen's deacon?"

Kira shook his head, revealing his left eye momentarily. Renji noticed the dark bruise, but said nothing.

"I am Ichimaru Gin's deacon. Aizen-sama is the First. Weren't you informed of this?" Kira thought it was very strange that the newcomer was not informed of the hierarchy prior to his reassignment. It was dangerous. If this redhead made the same mistake in front of either Gin or Sousuke, he could get in trouble.

Renji frowned, scratching his scalp distantly. He was rather sure that Zaraki Kenpachi was the First. He shared his thoughts with Kira.

"That is true. But Zaraki Kenpachi is not here. Nor is Kuchiki Byakuya."

Hearing Byakuya's name, Renji forgot to protest at that stupid remark made by the deacon. It was the logic of the West Fenore monastery, and as a member, Renji will have to learn to deal with it.

He really needed to forget about East Fenore, about Byakuya, Kenpachi, Shuuhei, Madarame... the thoughts of those dear, familiar faces made him shudder. He wanted to go back to the time when he saw Byakuya every day, when he had to endure his arrogance and pride. When he drank sake with the deacons, pointing fingers at the disinterested Yumichika. He wanted to go back to the place where the patriarchal Zaraki Kenpachi ruled with stern hand and mild, understanding eyes. But it was too late. After all, he would never relinquish the time he had spent with Byakuya for an eternity in East Fenore.

_Water under the bridge,_ he thought and sighed. It was not like him to ponder and mope around the unattainable past. He had to make the best of what was given to him. He will be depressed once he's alone.

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><p>Aizen Sosuke gave Renji a wide smile and walked towards him, both arms extended in a gesture of a warm welcome. Renji expected to meet an intimidating man, but Sousuke seemed all but intimidating. The brown eyes behind the glasses were warm and welcoming. But other men in the room seemed to compensate for Sousuke's lack. One with silver hair, and an eerie grin; one with expressionless eyes, and another with large opaque glasses hiding half of his face.<p>

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Abarai Renji. We were expecting you," Sousuke said.

"Thank you, Aizen-sama," Renji said and bowed his head. Although Sousuke seemed simple and candid, something told him he should be wary. His instincts were never wrong, and he was not about to start ignoring them.

"These are my high priests. Ichimaru Gin, Ulquiorra Cifer, and Tousen Kaname."

Each of the priests nodded when their names were called out.

"Kira here will show you to your room, and you will go over the details of your training with Ulquiorra tomorrow. I am sure you are tired from your trip."

Renji stared at Sousuke, warily, and the man's smile widened.


	2. Teacher's Pet

**Ch02. Teacher's Pet**

The first couple of months were easy enough. Too easy, as far as training was concerned. A little less easy as far as wanton thoughts and desires were concerned. He got used to the prevailing images of Byakuya in his mind, and although it took time, he started functioning despite the deep frustration that seared through him on a daily basis. His hand proved to be an entirely different world, one of meager satisfaction, and placid contentment, but it was all he had. After all, a true survivor had to know how to get by with what he has, and Renji was really good at convincing himself of being just fine and amply satisfied.

He managed to master the first lesson in a week. Isolate the designated dream-waves, create a disturbance. Isolate-disturb, isolate-disturb. Too easy. It was hard to understand why it took so long for the other trainees, especially because Renji was not used to things coming so easy and natural to him. He thought that maybe the whole dream-business was a part of his body even before he entered the Yumearuku order. Every time he would think himself special or talented, he would simply dismiss the thought as pretentious and self-glorifying; he was never into deceiving himself.

He was bored to death. The members of West Fenore crawled through the corridors of the monastery as if they were hiding some terrible secret. He was sure most of them considered going to the toilet a nefarious activity which demanded squinting of the eyes and clenching of muscles even before sitting on the bowl. They were all so tight-ass that Renji felt it was slowly rubbing off on him. It was almost impossible to have old-fashioned fun. Playing a ridiculous drinking game with a bunch of suspicious-looking characters was not his idea of a good time. The only option he had were the other trainees, most of which hated him because he caught up too fast or because he was at least five years older. Socially, Renji was fucked. There was no prettier way to think about it. He was reduced to meaningless ramblings, which occupied him sufficiently until biting winds of the upcoming winter took over.

Maybe it was because he had too much time on his hands that he noticed the clandestine nature of pretty much everything outside the training facilities. Even the meals carried a certain air of insecurity and opacity which he could not quite understand. In due time, he realized, he too was squinting. It took him a few weeks in the common rooms of the West Fenore monastery to feel the painful loneliness of being surrounded by silent, wary men. It made him paranoid to such an extent that he stayed in his room during the day, and during the night he explored.

One of his exploits led him to a dusty, mouldy library filled with books in dire need of reading. Even with the faint light of his candle, he felt unbelievable sorrow as he watched piles and piles of abandoned, neatly bined and catalogued books. Renji was not much of a reader. Sure, he knew how to, but he never had time. However , time was pretty much everything he had at the moment of his discovery.

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><p>"Abarai-san," someone called out for him on a cloudy day.<p>

"Yes?" Renji answered without looking up from the words that seemed to have taken over him.

"The training session is about to begin, and the Third wants you there," said a young teen of maybe fifteen, with hair-colour as outrageous as Renji's.

Renji closed the book, and sighed. Once a week he had to go through the isolate-and-disturb cycle. He forgot it was already Thursday.

"Oh. Yeah. I'm coming," he answered with a grin, "I completely forgot."

The teen murmured something in disapproval, because he was yet to achieve Renji's level, and it was so damn irritating how nonchalant the redhead was about his natural talent. They walked in silence for a while.

"Where did you get that book?" the teen asked.

"The library."

"We have a library?"

"Yeah. It seems people here don't really read," Renji said, unable to suppress feeling slightly superior.

"Some people here don't have time to read," the teen grunted.

Renji squinted at the teen. There was no obvious reason for him to get his guard up around the kid, but still, he could not help but be careful about Ulquiorra's messenger, as young as he was.

"I'm Abarai Renji, by the way," he said.

"I know. We all know," the teen hissed, not even trying to suppress the resentment in his words.

"What's your problem carrot-top? You have something against me?"

The carrot-top stopped, turned on his heels and made a point of getting into Renji's face. It was virtually impossible for the kid to do so without standing on his toes. Renji was tempted to poke the kid with a finger to make him stumble, but he decided not to, because he was having one of the longest conversations since he arrived.

"You're Abarai Renji, yes. But we prefer calling you Teacher's Pet," the teen hissed at him, a few specks of his angry, but honest saliva landing on Renji's face.

"Say it, kid, don't fucking spray it all over my face," Renji said with a vicious grin he hadn't used for a while. He was glad to realize he was not out of practice.

"Fuck you, man," the kid said, turning around and resuming to walk with a sullen, defeated stride. He hoped to get a rise out of the self-important redhead.

"Kurosaki Ichigo," the teen managed through his teeth after a few steps.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Kurosaki Ichigo," Renji said with amusment in his voice. He had lost all hope of finding someone remotely interesting in West Fenore. He smiled at Ichigo's back, realizing he might have stumbled upon the only person who might prove to be a friend.

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><p>Renji was going artistic on his lunch when he heard a loud thud. He lifted his head to meet the disgruntled brown eyes of Kurosaki Ichigo staring intently at his masterpiece in porridge.<p>

"Didn't your mom tell you not to play with your food?" Ichigo asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"I didn't have a mom," Renji answered curtly, observing the smirk being replaced by discomfort.

"Sorry dude, didn't mean to..."

After finally bringing himself to taste the mass that was called porridge on that day's menu, Renji caughed in disapproval.

"I do hope that the priests eat better. I don't think I could last an eternity on this shit," he said, letting his remark and Ichigo's apology go unnoticed. He hadn't talked to the kid for some time and he was not about to lose the opportunity to have some sanity with his porridge.

"Yeah, the food really sucks, but the ladies, man..." Ichigo said and whistled.

"You're right, the ladies make the trouble worth the while." They both laughed, a bit too eagerly to hide their frustration. Neither of them really knew what was it that made the trouble worth the while.

"Haven't seen you in a while," Ichigo remarked. He tasted the porridge and instantly became aware of why Renji chose to play with it.

"Ulquiorra's giving me private lessons," Renji said, realizing that it sounded far worse when voiced out loud. He noticed that smirk find its way back onto Ichigo's face just before the teen burst out into laughter.

"Shit, man! Private lessons!" Ichigo managed. Renji stared at him mirthlessly for a few seconds before he started laughing himself. Other trainees stared at them in bewilderment, as if they were doing something illicit and unsavoury.

"Teacher's Pet gets a whooooooooole new meaning," Ichigo cried out.

Renji wanted to thank the kid for giving him a few moments of fun and ease, but he knew it would kill the mood, and Ichigo probably would not understand why Renji was so desperate for some normal communication.

"So, how old are you, anyway?" Ichigo asked when their laughter died out. Renji tapped his spoon on Ichigo's forehead.

"That's an impolite question," he said, using the same spoon to scoop up the remains of his lunch.

"What? You a girl or something?"

"Maybe I am. Maybe I'm hiding a great set of tits here," Renji set, tapping his palms against his chest.

Ichigo glared at Renji. He wanted to ask him about girls, and the easiest way to do it was to ask him how old he was. But the stupid redhead refused to play along. Renji squinted his eyes as he observed Ichigo's sullen face.

"I'm old enough. Why?" he asked, realizing, a bit too late, that it was an introductory quiestion.

"Old enough for what?" Ichigo asked, not really prepared to broach the subject he was interested in. When he signed up for training his father kicked him in approval. Yuzu was happy for him and even Karin managed to show him that she was proud of him. He never even imagined it would be hard, he was too busy gloating and enjoying his success.

"Old enough for whatever it is you wanna ask..." Renji said, his eyes boring holes in Ichigo.

"I just wanted to know how old you were..." Ichigo grumbled, stuffing his face with porridge in the process.

Renji was about to insist on some honesty from the kid, when a bell chimed.

"Well, some of us don't receive private lessons," Ichigo said, smiling wildly.

"Tough break," Renji said, grinning back at ichigo.

"See you around?" Ichigo said, rising to go to class. He did not intend to make it sound like a question, but he wondered whether the man who was old enough was prepared to spend more time with him.

"Sure thing, carrot-top," Renji answered.

"Watch it, old man!"

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><p>Once every few weeks, Renji and Ichigo managed to steal away some time from their busy schedules. Although the time they spent together was sparse, the kid was the only thing that kept Renji sane. If he had not met Ichigo, he would have been lost to the dreary loneliness of the West Fenore.<p>

"You really have too much free time, Renji," Ichigo said as they wandered the hallways of the training facilities in search for the library.

"What do you mean?" Renji inquired, without looking back at Ichigo.

"Only someone with too much time on their hands could find something this deep inside the facilities."

"Well I guess you're right," the redhead conceded, lifting the candle.

"Here it is, the secret library," Renji said with an eerie voice.

"Grow up, old man," Ichigo berated him, as he followed in. It did not look like a secret library. It looked like a forgotten remnant of a distant era when people sat behind desks, immersed in their studies.

"It's kind of sad, don't you think?"

"Yeah, kind of is," Ichigo agreed as he observed the shelves.

"I'm not much of a reader, but I felt compelled to save at least one of them," Renji said as he set the candle on top of one of the desks.

"I think I'll save one myself. I don't have as much time as a certain someone I know, but I'm sure I'll find a few minutes to save a book from oblivion," Ichigo said, as he started looking over the books. There were so many, lined up so listlessly, that it was hard to pick only one. His hand reached out for the dark green book.

"_Directions in Dream Walking,_ author Anonymous," he read out loud. "I think I'll save this one. If I like it I might just save another one," he added.

As most of the members and the trainees of the Yumearuku order, Ichigo had trouble dealing with solitude and lonely nights when he had nothing but time to think on his hands. Those times made him doubt his calling, they made him think of home, of his family, and of all he could have experienced if he chose to inherit his father's practice.

"How 'bout you, Renji?"

"I'm still trying to save the one I took out months ago," Renji admitted.

"You really aren't much of a reader," Ichigo said, nudging him with an elbow.

"C'mmon. We should go. For some reason I feel like we're doing something naughty," Renji said, pulling Ichigo towards the door, making him blush a little.

* * *

><p>Ichigo was reading the book Renji helped him save, when he heard a knock on his door. He stumbled off of his futon, almost falling flat on his head.<p>

"Fuck," he swore at his left leg which betrayed him. He slid the door open, only to discover Renji standing there.

"It's dead of the night, Renji. Whadayawant?" Ichigo blurted, shifting slightly to let Renji in. He was glad to see the redhead, but he did not feel obliged to show him that.

"Get your ass dressed, Ichigo," Renji whispered, noticing the boy's lack of clothes, "and take a towel."

"What?"

"Just do as I say, brat," Renji grunted, pushing Ichigo slightly to prove the urgency of his instructions.

They walked out of the training dorm, and towards the Ichimaru household. It was a cold night and Renji was certain they would find the onsen as abandoned as the first time he'd discovered it.

"Oh my God," Ichigo sighed at the sight of steam rising from the water, filling the air with hot humidity that made his cold limbs feel at ease momentarily. Renji looked at Ichigo victoriously.

"You still sorry you had to tiptoe through the hallways?"

"Renji, my man, I'm really happy you're a teacher's pet with too much free time," Ichigo said, ripping his clothes off of him. He was finally prepared to let his body feel all the pent up frustration, because immersing himself into that hot, steamy water was sure to relieve all the tension in his limbs, all the pressure that ammassed behind his eyes.

"Ah, it feels so good," the teen moaned as he lowered his body into the hot bath. Renji flinched at the words, remembering them as Byakuya had uttered them. He shivered slightly when he felt Ichigo's wet hand reach out for him.

"C'mmon. You're shivering, man," the kid said, tugging insistently on Renji's sleeve, eradicating all further comparison with Byakuya. Renji did not notice just how dark Ichigo's eyes grew as he took off his clothes. He did notice that the young man gasped for air, but he thought he was just adjusting to breathing in the thick, humid vapours.

"Oh man," Renji could not suppress a groan, "this feels so good I'm sure there's a law against it."

Ichigo did not know what hit him. His lips parted involuntarily letting out a small sigh as he saw Renji's naked body covered in drops of hot water. The tension that left his body, was back, with a vengeance, when he saw the water around Renji turn red. Seeing his hair float freely around his bare shoulders, covered with intricate tattoos, made the redhead look outworldly. The steam that filled the air between them made Renji seem even more beautiful, even more ethereal. Ichigo's hands flew to his groin.

Even if the faint light, and the steam were not enough to hide it, Renji would have never noticed it. His head was tilted back, his long hair tickled his skin as it floated around him. He closed his eyes, not even trying to fend off the idea of Byakuya being with him, between his legs, leaning against his chest, the dark strands sticking to his shoulders.

"Mmm," Renji moaned, without trying to hide his own arousal. Ichigo just stared at the man, unable to grasp how someone so big and so strong can look so beautiful. The tattoos that made Renji seem even more wild worked only to lasciviously enhance the flow of his muscles.

He could not stop himself. For the first time in his life, he was given an opportunity to satisfy his hunger with a real human being in front of him, the real object of his desire. Yes, it was his friend, and it was a man, but it sure beat the blurry images of women he usually conjured up in his mind. Anyway, Renji was so out of it he would not even notice. Ichigo stared at Renji's relaxed body, taking in all the details, each visible curve of his tattoos, the way they slithered across his chest, shying away from his pink nipples, traveling under the water which hid what Ichigo really wanted to see, to touch. His hand needed no coercing. It found its way to his cock, stroking timidly at first, then growing bolder, not caring anymore whether Renji would notice or not. Ichigo was growing desperate as his climax approached; desperate to stop and beg Renji to help him, to do something, anything with this awakened desire he had in him. But he just kept stroking himself, his other hand grazing against his nipple, pinching it slightly, imagining it was Renji's big hand doing it.

"Ahhh," Ichigo moaned, scared by the relief present in his own voice. Every muscle in his body went rigid, as he looked at Renji. He relaxed after realizing the redhead paid no attention to his groan. The proof of his act, his shameful act, lingered in the same water which caressed Renji's body, making Ichigo panic. He started hitting the surface of the bath with his hands, wanting to erase what he had done, wanting to keep the friendship he shared with Renji as pure as it was before he went on and ruined it for the sake of momentary relief.

"Carrot-top, stop making noise, or we'll be in a world of trouble," Renji said, his voice husky and deep with his own hidden thoughts and desires.

"Sorry," Ichigo said, realizing he was in fact apologizing for jerking off while staring at Renji.

"Just calm down, and enjoy the moment," the calm redhead instructed him, and Ichigo obeyed, not knowing what else he could do.


	3. Fear and Loathing

The world seemed to revolve in slow-motion, and all the nature was in suspended animation. Even the rustling, howling wind could not remove the stillness which pervaded. Snow was imminent, Renji could feel it in his guts, and he found himself yearning to be surrounded by iridescent whiteness. Despite all the noiseless movements of the incumbent winter, he felt restless, never at ease, and he knew that the softness of the snow would make him feel safe, and at home.

Renji closed the window after taking a deep breath, filling his lungs with the promise of the snow. He smiled, almost imperceptibly, and his lips called out an inaudible name. It was his first night off that week, and after having mustered through hours of various classes on dream walking, he was glad he would have a few hours of unmonitored rest. The constant control and insight that he had to relinquish to Ulquiorra felt monstrously invasive, and he looked forward to the day he alone will be allowed to dwell inside of his dreams.

He pulled out two red pills out of his breast pocket and he fought hard against the desire to gulp one down. He wanted to do it badly, but he knew that forever was a long time, and the one year he had spent without Byakuya was only a speck, a blemish on that vast sun dial. Just like every other night, he put the pills back.

_The red tide is high. The obsidian rocks of the shore turn into jagged, rotten teeth protruding from a waveless sea. All is still, yet something stirs and crawls, relentlessly. An ill-omened wind rises, carrying his thoughts across the crimson sea. Every rotten tooth lacerates and somehow severs his consciousness into a myriad of unconnected impressions. There is no night, no day, only perpetual bloody dusk with no blue, no yellow; just shades of red. The world trembles upon its own dumb, inward cry._

_A small, seedless patch of land. A white column rising into the sky. Two lean hands, shackled around the column. A taut chain buried into the fallow ground. Strands of wet, dark hair cover the man's face. Sweat and tears. Soundless screams. Blood dripping from the wrists, eaten down to the bone. Desperate attempts at freedom cease._

_The chained man is naked. Behind him stands another figure, its eyes are dead, its face a ceramic mask of ashen indifference. The eyes stare without seeing. The hips move with unimaginable vigour, ramming its dick into the shackled man. Hard, merciless, penetrating. Red liquid trickles down the captive's thighs. Pain tears him apart from inside. Death is coveted after. Demise is a thing of dreams. Thoughts of freedom are relinquished. Death. Only death. Even hell, but death._

_The rapist keeps on thrusting, pushing, fucking. It shows no signs of pleasure, and end is not near. It moves its hand onto the captive's face. The rapist peels of the hair, taking with it chunks of skin and flesh. Beyond the blood, the captive's face is barely discernible. Byakuya shrieks as Ulquiorra delivers yet another tearing thrust._

Renji woke up screaming Byakuya's name. His heartbeats echoed through the dark room. Each pore on his skin was on fire, every drop of blood felt poisonous. He jumped off of his futon to open the window. Each vein in his body throbbed, each artery, filled with poisonous fluid, threatened to burst as he leaned over to vomit. He lifted a shaky hand and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. It was all still there, although it felt as if someone had taken his scalp. Renji gripped the windowsill, tight enough for his nails to break against the strain.

"Byakuya," he whispered into the cold night, as if invoking a deity, as if calling out for redemption. He vomited again, images of macabre sunset still vivid. Renji knew that silence surrounded him, but still he could hear the unearthly scream of his mind, the noiseless anguish of his severed consciousness.

The sounds of a dream are worse than any image, as monstrous as it may be. Pictures fade to black over time, but the shrill noises of the subconscious reverberate through eternity. Nothing is as perennial as the pain you hear with your mind, with your blood, with every living cell of your mortal body. It aches beyond comparison to any physical wound. And it lingers.

Why did it seem so real? After all those arduous months of training, he was still unable to control his own dreams. He was even unable to tell the difference between dream and reality. The pain on Byakuya's face, and hideous vacancy in Ulquiorra's eyes felt real enough to touch, to smell. The metallic taste of blood was still palpable on his tongue.

A soft, moist sensation touched his eyelids and Renji opened his eyes. Snow. Hundreds... thousands of gentle patches of white perfection assailed the chill night. He eased his grip, unaware of the blood dripping from his wounded fingers. He reached out into the dead of the night, and he smiled.

He closed the window, and all thoughts about eternity evaporated with the awareness of the never-ending cycle of days each dream walker has to go through. He reached into his breast pocket and took out one precious pill. He rolled it on his tongue for a few seconds, his skin tingling with anticipation of meeting with Byakuya again. He had to know that the man was ok. Despite being aware that it was only a dream, still, he had to make sure. After all, the only reason why Byakuya would leave those pills was because he wanted to see Renji again, and those red pills were the only way they could meet, at least until Byakuya became the First of the Yumearuku order. Maybe then, he would decide to visit Renji regardless of the restrictions placed upon dream walking. He swallowed.

_It took only a few minutes for the anaesthetic to work. During those moments Renji was trapped within a realm in which reality melted into dreams, a realm which made his heart race and pump faster each time. _

_When he was deep within the dream world Renji met consuming nothingness. Gleaming whiteness surrounded him, and the brightness of the dream hurt his mind. He closed his eyes, and strained in order to make out shapes around him, only to found that there were no shapes. Even he had no form in this vacant dream. Renji reached out, but his hand was not there, his body did not materialize. Nothing as far as eyes, or thoughts could perceive. There was no way to try to explore the space of the dream, it was beyond his abilities. The only thing he could do was wait for the anaesthetic to wear off, and he found the lapse of time nonexistent. The unending, blinding nothingness filled him with panic he had felt during the previous dream. What if Byakuya was in pain? What if he was arrested? But he could feel the truth. Despite the fact that there was nothing, not even him, he knew: Byakuya refused him entrance._

* * *

><p><em>Byakuya could feel him on the other side of the wall. He knew Renji was there, perplexed, blinded by the barrier. He had made a promise, and he never broke his promises. As much as he wanted to let the wall shatter, as much as he wanted Renji to feel just how much he wanted him – he could not betray Kenpachi's confidence. To see Renji again, to touch him, if only within a dream, was what he wanted more than anything. Renji was adamant, forceful as ever in his futile attempts to penetrate the wall that divided them. Despite those attempts, despite his own desires, Byakuya made the whiteness wider, more solid. He needed protection against Renji's protruding wish to see him. He needed to dissolve every connection, because he did not want to go through the ordeal again. He needed to make sure Renji understood he did not want to see him – he simply could not. <em>

_But if he could only show him, explain why it was necessary, why it had to be like that... No. Kenpachi made it clear enough. No contact. Abarai Renji never existed. If only words could become reality upon utterance. If only it was that easy to erase Renji from his life. How in the world could he forget about the man who had touched him, who had kissed him, caressed every inch of his cold body? He should break the dream, put an end to this torture. But Renji is there, he can feel him, and he knows that the wild redhead can feel him on the other side, pushing him away, telling him to go away. Never come back. _

Byakuya broke the dream. He felt like someone was sitting on his chest as he tried to get up. Something was pushing him down, an invisible force pinned him to his futon, and he was unable to move. He could feel invisible fingers grab his shoulders. Was it the wind that crept under the door that was caressing his neck, brushing against his collarbone?

"Byakuya ..." a voice boomed. He shuddered. It was Renji's voice. Was he going mad? Renji was miles away, and there was no way his voice carried through the dream into reality. Only the First had that ability. The energy holding him down disappeared, and the eerie voice became an echo Byakuya would have to struggle to forget during the years to come.

He wanted Renji by his side. He wanted to feel the warmth of Renji's body on his futon, against him. It was still unbearable, even more after being so close to him, separated only by a wall. Byakuya felt how much Renji wanted the same, but he had no strength to let some of his own feelings cross over.

He winced at the rising tension in his groin –it was his own fault. He shouldn't have imagined Renji's breath against his skin. He should have blocked the image of the strong, naked body, covered with wandering tattoos. Byakuya threw the covers away from his body, and he nervously fumbled around his waist band, forgetting what pride and self-control once meant to him. He was desperate to reach for his erection, to stroke it, to touch himself while the images of Renji were still alive in his head, with his voice still lingering in the room. He grabbed his hard cock in a merciless grip, and he masturbated with desperation, wanting release to come fast. He closed his eyes and he tried to imagine it was Renji's hand touching him, but to no avail. His own hand around his rigid shaft felt coarse, and he could put no feeling into the act.

He stared at his cock, still painfully hard, and he let out a shrill laugh. If he wanted release, he will have to be gentle, he will have to take his sweet time. If he wanted to come he will have to recreate Renji's movements. Byakuya laughed again. When Renji was jerking him off, he never even noticed just how deliberate his strokes were, how each was minutely different from the previous one. If Byakuya wanted to come, he will have to suppress self-loathing he felt, he will have to calm down and show himself some tenderness. He covered his half-naked body knowing that he was not capable of giving it what it needed to feel at ease. Only Renji could do that. And Renji was no more.

* * *

><p>"Well, Ulquiorra?" Sousuke inquired. He had just woke out of an assignment himself, and he was eager to hear the news about Renji and Byakuya.<p>

The strange man waited for Sousuke to wake up in order to relate the information about the task he had been given. Ulquiorra was not particular about his duties, as long as those were a part of Aizen Sousuke's plans. Others might have been reluctant to do Sousuke's dirty work, but Ulquiorra had no problem with it. He did not like them, nor did he dislike them. It was his duty. He was ordered to do it, and he had performed admirably, as usual.

"I have done what you have asked me to do," Ulquiorra remarked.

Sousuke nodded, rising from the chair in which he normally dream walked. He brushed back his dark hair. He could relax around his Third. There was no need to explain why he issued orders, or what those had to do with their mutual goals. Unlike Gin, Ulquiorra was the perfect subordinate. A bit on the bland side, true, but rather pleasing when he wanted to avoid explanations.

"And, what did your perceptive eye catch? Something interesting?"

"He loves Byakuya," Ulquiorra stated, his green eyes as dull as always.

"Details, please."

Ulquiorra replayed the entire dream he had forced upon Renji in order to make his report as clear as possible.

"He did not feel any jealousy. Not a modicum of resentment towards Byakuya. Mostly it was anger and desire to rip me to pieces. And anguish. I even felt he was prepared to trade places just to ease Byakuya's pain."

"I see," Sousuke noted curtly. He smiled, radiantly, as he realized that he had the best case scenario in his hands. Still, he needed evidence.

"So, they were lovers?"

"Most definitely. He doubts Byakuya's affection, but he does not care about it. I think he would die for him," the dream-rapist said.

"How lovely. But I do not think Renji needs to die. We'll put him to good use when the time is right."

Ulquiorra bowed his head.

"Your orders?"

"We need to get that fiery redhead to the brink of insanity before we drag him back to reason, our reason. Then he will tell us everything we need to know, and more," Sousuke said, feeling tingles all over his body. He could not curb the excitement which arose in him every time things were proceeding precisely as he had planned.

"You want the same scenario, Aizen-sama?"

Sousuke was the one who devised the plan that had worked so beautifully, pulling out all the information he needed at that moment. However, it was only the beginning.

"Not the same. Similar. Next time, make Byakuya like it."


	4. A Hard Lesson

**AN** - _It took me a while to write this one, but I am finally satisfied, so... Hope you find it satisfactory, as well.  
><em>

* * *

><p>"There's really no point in debating it," Renji said calmly.<p>

"Really?" Ichigo asked, letting his eyebrow raise in wonder.

" It is really completely pointless."

"I beg to differ."

"It's not like we can write up a fucking petition and get the ruling overturned. It's been like this since forever."

"That's bullshit. Just because something's been the same from the dawn of time, it does not mean it should remain that way. Things that are blatantly wrong and unjust must be changed, no matter how long they have been the same."

Renji sighed, somewhat tired of the one-on-one he had the night before with Ulquiorra. It was impossible to alter Ulquiorra's REM waves and make them budge even an inch. He wondered if he would ever learn the lesson.

"Listen, we can debate for a century, but there is no way they'll let chicks in. You think it would be appropriate to have an orgy in a monastery?"

Ichigo scratched his scalp, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Don't fucking answer that."

They laughed at the idea of an orgy, but both of them had a hard time purging the thought of it from their minds.

"You know, it happens," Ichigo said, blushing.

"What?"

"Guys do it. I know for a fact."

Renji suddenly felt naked. _Guys do it._ He knew full well that guys do it. He knew how they do it, why they do it, and he damn well knew how it felt to do it with a guy, a guy who purged him from his royal life.

"I guess they do," Renji said. "But what's that had to do with our discussion?"

"I mean guys _here_ do it."

"What?"

"Yeah. You don't know it because I'm the only one you ever talk to and hang out with, but some of the trainees do it. I've heard that the priests were doing it, too."

"That's just..."

_What, Renji? Is it wrong? Is it dirty and blasphemous that two members of a religious order fuck each other in the dead of the night, hidden from the world? _

It took him by surprise, a hand on his thigh, moist lips pressing against his. He reacted, though, opening his mouth, pushing his tongue between the seeking lips. He grabbed Ichigo's shoulders with the intention of pushing the boy to the floor, tearing his clothes off and fucking him. Renji's mind went blank with the desire of another's flesh he did not know he fostered.

He pushed Ichigo away as his eyes caught an orange shimmer instead of a dark, black one. He sighed in disappointment as he saw dark brown eyes instead of steely gray ones.

"I'm sorry," Renji said. The boy was sitting in his lap, their feverish erections close to each other, almost touching.

"But, you're..." Ichigo muttered, looking at Renji's obvious arousal, not understanding why the moment was gone.

"Get off of me, Ichigo," Renji gnarled, his eyes infused with a rage that screamed violence.

"What's wrong with you, man? I mean, what the fuck?"

Renji stood up. He had a certain quality about him that made him look physically stronger and more dangerous whenever he was enraged. For the first time, Ichigo was scared of Renji.

"What the fuck!" the teen yelled, not letting his fear take the better of him.

"You need to get out now, Ichigo," Renji said in a flat line tone.

"Renji..."

"Out. Now."

Ichigo turned around and left Renji's room without a glance, without a word. He shouldn't have thought that his friend was as open-minded as he was. He just hoped he could fix it with an apology tomorrow.

The moment Ichigo left the room, Renji fell to his knees, and once again, after a long time, he wept.

* * *

><p>It was hard to see into the gray day, thick with clouds. The world seemed out of focus, shifted somehow. The rain was imminent, and Kira decided to wait for the heaven to bring down its fury on him. He deserved divine punishment. Every day he fell an inch or two, but somehow he was still unable to hit the bottom. If there was anything Kira knew it was that the severity of his fall got redefined on a daily basis. The heavy drops of rain landed onto his face, as if gravity was forcing them to fall. The deacon laughed. The idea that he could blame his own fall on an unspoken physical force had died some time ago.<p>

"Izuru-san, are you ... erm ... are you well?" he heard a deep, guttural voice behind him. The voice still sounded foreign, despite its frank warmth. Kira forced himself to smile before he turned around.

"I am fine, thank you. I was just enjoying the weather," he replied. By that time the rain was pouring down and the morning sky was almost black. Renji raised an eyebrow and he looked up at the darkness as if he was ardently searching for the weather in which one could enjoy in. Kira smiled again, this time in honest amusement with Renji's ability to take things at face value. The redhead needed to learn to scratch the surface and search for hidden meanings, and he needed to learn that lesson fast.

"Things that please me do not necessarily need to correspond to those that please you."

Renji shrugged, but he did not move. He seemed to have decided to learn how to enjoy the heavy, cold rain, and sharp eastbound wind. The trainee and the deacon stood in silence, like two decorative pillars in the middle of the monastery concourse, defying the wrath of nature.

"I guess it is beautiful, in a way," Renji finally said.

"Oh? Really?"

"Everything seems a bit ... I dunno ... too much," the redhead explained.

"That depends on the perspective," Kira said, not really understanding the intensity that Renji noticed.

"Why do you think it's beautiful?"

"I never said I thought it was beautiful. I think it awful. It's opaque and menacing. I fucking hate it."

"But you're enjoying it?"

The deacon suddenly grabbed Renji's forearm and forced him to meet his eyes.

"You have a problem with me liking it?" he screamed at Renji, whose face turned as menacing and opaque as the weather, making Kira loosen his grip, but not scaring him enough to let go.

"Excuse me?" Renji's voice was muffled by the heavy the rain, but still his words managed to startle Kira into retreating. He did not like when people touched him arbitrarily.

"I apologize, Abarai-san, I am a bit out of sorts," he explained. Renji's gaze at Kira's hand seemed to have pried the slim fingers open.

"If you wanted to be alone, you should have just said so."

Kira brushed his hair off of his face. For some reason he decided that moving his hair had priority over hiding his bruise. He felt the weight of his robe pulling him down, reminding him of how weak his body was. His knees gave up under the weight, be it the weight of his sins or the weight of the fabric drenched with rain. Renji managed to keep him on his feet, embracing him with one strong hand.

"I think I better get you back to your room. You look awful," Renji said, trying hard not to stare into the deep bruise on an otherwise perfect face. He realized that Kira was enjoying the weather because it seemed to reflect his troubled mind, and his wounded eye. Maybe the blonde deacon was furious at his inability to emulate the nature's fury.

"That, Abarai-san, is an excellent idea," Kira replied, allowing Renji to help him back to the Ichimaru household. It would have been nice to feel the comfort people feel once they enter their home, their safe haven. Kira did not have that luxury. The moment they stepped through the door his muscles twisted and tensed.

"Izuru-san?" Renji asked, noticing the sudden change in Kira.

"I am fine. Just...The third door on the left. My room. Please." He did not intend his voice to sound so pathetic and laden with pain. Renji did that. He dragged him out of his cold, marble shell and made him soft, and Kira had no idea why or how Renji did it. The redhead spoke very little. It did seem that something was always lurking beneath the surface, ready to boil over. But it never did. Although Renji seemed honest and simple, he still showed some deep understanding of the order in West Fenore, which kept him vigilant. However, it could have been Kira's guilt that made him so soft and vulnerable around Renji. He knew what the high priests were doing. Gin never failed to share anything that would plague Kira's conscience.

Renji's hands lowered him gently against the wall. It felt wrong, allowing Renji to help him, to take care of him in his moments of weakness.

Then those same gentle hands began untying his wet robe.

"Wait," Kira sighed.

"You can manage to take off the robe yourself?" And there it was again. No overtones, no hints of sarcasm, just an honest inquiry, despite the fact that the deacon was obviously in no condition of doing anything himself.

"No, not really," he conceded, letting go of Renji's wrists.

Kira expected Renji to react in some way upon seeing his naked body, leaning so defensively against the wall. He thought the redhead would at least pause to look at his soft skin. He hated to admit it, but he hoped that Renji's eyes would caress him for only a moment. It would have been nice to feel the dark glow of his eyes warming up his cold body.

He knew Renji had been with Kuchiki Byakuya in that way. Gin told him that the truth about that relationship was the most precious information Aizen Sousuke had. It was hard not to wonder just how good Renji was, when even the infamous Kuchiki Byakuya yielded to him.

"Your sleeping gown?" Renji asked, without noticing how hungry for tenderness the man on the floor was.

"Top right shelf," Kira replied, trying hard not to sound disappointed.

Renji dried off Kira's body, dressed him and laid him onto his futon, as if he was taking care of an infant, or a wounded animal.

"I'll inform the Second that you're..."

"NO!" Kira yelled, finding enough strength to sit up and grab Renji's shoulders. Maybe Renji had no ulterior motive, no desire to take advantage of a defenceless man, but Kira was sure that the silver-haired monster would have no problem with it. Gin preferred it that way.

"Don't. I just need an hour or two of sleep. I'll be alright," he said, lying down again.

" If you want, you can borrow one of my yukatas and change. You really shouldn't walk around in those wet clothes."

"I'll be fine. I've seen worse weather," Renji said. He looked outside the window and smiled.

"I guess that's why I thought it was beautiful. I survived through worse and it brought me something very close to happiness."

Renji slid the door open, his wet clothes resounding each of his steps.

"You're a strange man," Kira said, more to himself than to Renji.

* * *

><p>After changing into a dry yukata and lying down, Renji realized he was wide awake. He could not stop thinking about Kira, the way his eyes betrayed complete desolation, fear of something invisible and impending. A sense of doom seemed to hang over everyone's heads in West Fenore, and Renji felt it was only a matter of time before all hell broke loose and took over. There was no hope of getting a good night sleep, not with the thoughts that plagued him. He tried hard to concentrate on his concern for Kira, because he did not feel like thinkong about Ichigo, about his ridiculous reaction at the young man's advance. Ichigo was not to blame for not being Byakuya.<p>

Although the redhead did not realize it, it was the first night he lost sleep over someone else. He looked out of the window, pleased to see that the rain had stopped. He was worried about Kira, and for a change, he could do something about it. For a change, he could walk over to where the object of his anxiety was and see if the man was doing fine, if he needed Renji to help him in any way.

Renji hoped a visit would alleviate his concern.

* * *

><p>He could not move an inch. The bondage on his hands felt injuriously soft and pleasing against his skin, unlike the strong body pinning him against the wall.<p>

"You've been a bit disobedient, haven't you?"

Kira squirmed as the naked thigh pushed between his legs, rubbing him gently, almost lovingly. He could not hold back a moan so subdued it bordered on inaudible.

"I guess you like it. Me punishing you."

He wanted to protest, to deny the statement. A hand stopped his objections as it shoved a piece of soft fabric into his mouth.

"I haven't come here to listen to your fruitless complaints," Gin whispered softly, waiting for the usual resignation to light a spark in Kira's eyes, making him eager to be forced into pleasure.

"I'm going to fuck you hard, honey. So hard you'll never dare to think that someone else could please you. I'm gonna make your knees buckle, I'm gonna make every inch of your skin remember what it feels to be touched by me."

Kira felt a hand slither around his waist, sliding down, not stopping until a single finger pushed its way inside of him. His head fell on Gin's shoulder, and he realized that he was moving his body so that the finger could reach deeper inside of him. He hated himself so much. He hated that he felt such a strong attraction to the man who felt absolutely nothing but perverse amusement with his lack of control, his masochism.

"Good boy," Gin said. "I'm gonna take the gag out. The only thing I want to hear is either my name, or you moaning like a little slut. Understood?"

Kira nodded.

"Gin..."

The Second smiled as his name rolled over Kira's lips. There was no resistance lingering in the corner of his mouth anymore. He was all in. It took only a few moments for him to silence all objections and make his sweet little boy submissive and hungry for a good, hard fuck.

Gin untied Kira's hands. He did not even notice it, but he never took Kira while he was tied up. He used restraint only to convince Kira that he wanted it. For some reason, however, Gin liked when Kira clung to him willingly, with his free will and free hands. He enjoyed every little grunt and moan escaping Kira's throat.

Gin was not the sort of a man to deny himself any of the earthly pleasures, and he was not the sort of a man to question why he wanted Kira to submit and give himself up of his own volition. Free will was something Gin rarely considered.

He switched their places in a dance-like movement. He let go of Kira as he slid down the wall, sitting down with his legs spread. It would have taken Kira only a fraction of a second to get away. The only thing he needed to do was to turn around and leave. He could have even injured Gin, because the Second was in such a vulnerable position that he could not fend off a direct attack. However, Kira took a step towards Gin. He slowly lowered himself onto Gin's cock, savouring every inch as it stretched him open.

"Shit," Gin hissed through his teeth, and his blue eyes opened wide when Kira started moving, desperately.

"Stop!" Gin commanded, his strong hands holding Kira down. The decaon's chest heaved wildly, his eyes staried in disappointment. His body felt tight and hot inside, and he desperately wanted it to feel even tighter, even more filled. It was the physical feeling of emptiness that took him over every time when Gin was not moving deeper inside, and that feeling of pathetic want made him hate himself.

"Gin?" Kira breahted the short name.

Gin grabbed his head with both of his hands. Something felt wrong, something felt broken.

"You're not thinking of someone else, are you?"

Kira's eyes widened in surprise. He had no idea who Gin was referring to. His mind was filled with Gin, just as his ass was.

"Who?"

"Good," Gin said, a bit perplexed at his own reaction. He pulled his deacon closer, kissing him the way he rarely did, claiming him as his own. Soon, he forgot about his moment of weakness, and he lifted both of them of the floor.

"I said I was going to fuck you hard, not the other way around, sweetie. You don't mind, do you?" Gin asked, a serpentine smile closing his eyes only for a brief moment.

"No," Kira replied as Gin re-entered him, holding one of his legs high up in the air, the other one barely touching the floor. He felt as if he was floating between dream and reality.

* * *

><p>He heard a loud thump and a strange moan. Renji almost tore down the door as he entered Kira's room. Before he could take in the scene of Kira on all four, being fucked from behind by no other than the Second, Renji found himself pinned against the wall by an enraged high priest.<p>

"What the fuck are you doing here?" the priest gritted through his teeth, infuriated by the interruption, although the act itself was completed.

Renji could not muster a word. The sight of the clearest blue of Gin's eyes made all words disappear. He did not manage to form thoughts of what Gin was doing to Kira.

"Gin, please..." Renji heard Kira say, and he looked over Gin's shoulder only to see Kira kneeling on the floor, naked, his skin sweaty and flushed.

"You shut up! What is he doing here?" Gin reiterated, never taking his eyes away from Renji.

"I came to see if he's ok. He seemed a bit under the weather earlier," Renji explained calmly.

_Even priests do it._ Yes. They most certainly do. Even priests fuck like rabbits.

"He's fine," Gin said, his old mischievous self creeping onto his face in a form of a familiar scary smile. He let go of Renji and walked over to where Kira was kneeling, eyes filling with tears. He did not want Renji to see him like this, in a postcoital haze.

"As you can see, he's more than fine," the Second added, grabbing a fistful of Kira's hair, making him lift his head and look at Renji.

"Right," Renji said. He stood motionlessly for a while, waiting for Gin to tell him he would kill him if he told, but no warning came.

"What? You need something else?"

"No.

"Leave, then," Gin said, "and don't you ever walk into my household without an official invitation, Abarai Renji."

"I will not," Renji replied curtly, but did not make his way to the door.

"You're still here. I know you like fucking men, but I did not know you also had a thing for watching. Do you want to watch, Renji? I heard it wasn't your thing, but maybe I heard wrong."

He said too much. Kira realized it, Gin realized it, and Renji surely realized it, because his body went rigid. He spread his legs slightly, as if he was getting ready to attack, but he did not move.

"I do not know to whom you've been talking to, but I assure you I have no interest in watching you fuck Kira. I do, however, want Kira to tell me he's fine. I don't believe a single fucking word you say."

Gin laughed.

"Oh, you redhead idiot. You really should learn to choose your words. A day might come when you'll regret them."

Renji took a step forward.

"I could break your neck without blinking," he said.

"Abarai-san. Stop. Please, don't," Kira pleaded, knowing that making Gin angry was a bad idea, but threatening him was far from the worst imaginable thing in the world.

"You ok?" Renji asked.

"I'm gonna make you regret this," Gin hissed, a hint of honest amusement in his voice.

"Kira? Are you ok?" the redhead repeated, completely disregarding Gin's presence.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. Get the fuck out!"

Renji turned to Gin.

"That's all I wanted. It wasn't that bad, now was it? Better than getting your neck broke n, right?" he asked, a feline smile lighting up his features.

Gin said nothing. There was not a living being who would dare to antagonize him, because his reputation preceded him.

Renji was going to be sorry for not breaking his neck, because that was the only thing in the world that could have stopped Gin from taking revenge. Gin smiled once Renji left the room. He was pleased. He knew a time will come when he would have to take Renji into his own hands. This little episode was sure to make it so much sweeter.


	5. Sacrifice

Renji dragged his feet walking across the concourse after the lesson. His mind was in a complete mess and he felt as if the seams of his identity and of what he knew was true were coming apart. Slowly, but ever so surely. Ichigo kept his distance. Renji knew he had to do something to show the kid he was not a crazy, homophobic monster he had come off as the last time they talked. He decided to do it tonight, after the assembly.

The assembly. Things have been quiet lately, but he felt it was a false serenity that shrouded West Fenore. Something was under way, and Renji could feel it.

He slowly made his way into the great hall. Immediately, he noticed a patch of orange hair sticking out among the myriad of heads. He sighed in resignation and sat next to Ichigo. Why wait to do something if you can do it right away.

"Hey, carrot-top," he said mischievously, putting all his effort into sounding non-committal.

"Hey, asshole," Ichigo replied. The kid still felt a bit bruised by the vicious rejection. He was still not comfortable with the fear Renji made him feel.

"Yeah, yeah, I am. Sorry, kid," Renji muttered.

Ichigo finally turned to face the redhead, and the residue of his fear melted away as he saw the warmth in Renji's eyes.

"We should probably talk later," Renji added, although he did not feel like talking about what made him so infuriated when they kissed. Sure, he was not eager to talk about Byakuya, but it was more than that – he felt the walls of West Fenore had ears, and those ears eagerly awaited for him to talk about caring for Byakuya, about fucking him, about _engaging in an illicit relationship sanctioned by the great Kenpachi Zaraki._

"It's fine, Renji. You have some hot stuff out there and you don't want to cheat on her. I get it," Ichigo said.

"We _need_ to talk," he repeated. Ichigo's reply was muffled by the applause which ripped through the great hall as the high priests, lead by Aizen Sousuke, took the podium.

Aizen took a step forward and, with a minuscule wave of hand, he silenced the audience. Renji felt malice in the air. It was deafening, the hate, the anger. He turned to see if anyone else felt the incredible noise of Aizen's presence, but everyone seemed unfazed.

"It has come to pass," Aizen's smooth voice rippled through Renji making every single cell in his body cringe at the sound.

"After over a century, we have a new leader."

Every single member of West Fenore, except Renji and Ichigo, began talking in unison. Aizen allowed the choir to continue with the dissonant song for some time. Renji could not tell what all the ruckus was about, but he sensed that something was stirring beneath Aizen's cold gaze. The First of the West Fenore held up his hand and the choir, obediently as ever, was silenced instantly.

"Kuchiki Byakuya…" The moment Byakuya's name left Aizen's lips Renji went deaf. He could not hear a word Aizen was saying. He clutched the chair he was sitting on, his nails once again straining against the wood, bleeding. A million of shrill little voices buzzed in his mind and he felt his sanity slowly abandon him. He held on tighter, feeling his nails break, trying to make the physical pain more intense than the one eating at his brain. He wanted to kill. He wanted to lunge from his seat, to break bones, to tear tendons. He was hungry for blood. Humanity seemed to have abandoned him - instinct took over, telling him to end it, then and there, to lunge at Aizen and his high priests, to tear them all to shreds and save the world.

Another applause. The buzzing in his mind subsided, bloodlust vanished as instantly as it sprang up. Aizen's speech was finished.

* * *

><p>"Dude?" Ichigo said, noticing Renji's wild eyes, his bared teeth. The silent rage Renji had showed him was nothing compared to the face of blatant malevolence. Renji was still in a daze, only an inch from hissing and growling. Aizen stared back at him, with a frozen smile which promised a world of pain and suffering. Once Renji managed to register the look in Aizen's face, he knew – he had to get out of West Fenore as soon as possible. He had to stop being an obedient little puppy. Fuck AIzen. Fuck Byakuya. Fuck them all. He was going to go medieval on all of their asses, and they are going to be sorry for taking him for granted.<p>

* * *

><p>"Renji, what was that?" Ichigo asked when they entered Renji's room.<p>

"Renji, stop pacing and look at me!" Ichigo demanded.

"This is fucked up," Renji muttered, slumping onto his futon, clutching his hair. The blood on his fingernails dried up, and he finally started to feel the pain.

"What? Aizen's speech?" Ichigo was unable to grasp what had made Renji look so bestial only five minutes ago.

"I didn't hear a word of it," Renji admitted, "except him mentioning Byakuya."

"Byakuya?"

Renji jumped back on his feet and started pacing again. He was on edge, hungry, violence rippling his tattooed skin unabashedly.

"Yes, yes, Byakuya."

"You mean Kuchiki-sama, the First of the Yumearuku order?" Ichigo corrected him.

"The what?" he asked, suddenly unable to move from the spot.

"The First of the Yumearuku order."

Renji squirmed a little bit, as if adjusting himself to a new state of being.

"The fuck I care. I will not call that fucker neither Kuchiki-sama, nor First-sama. I came inside of him so many times I think I'll just keep calling him Byakuya. Or motherfucker. He denied me entrance. Me. He begged me to enter him, and then he pushes me away. He leaves me here in this lair of debauchery and pretense, and I should show him respect. He can go fuck himself."

Ichigo stared at Renji, trying to process everything that the redhead spewed out in a fit of remarkable honesty and frustration. It was almost impossible to digest.

"So he's the one you're in love with," Ichigo whispered. He thought Renji would attack him for saying that, he expected the words to push the redhead over the edge. But they had the opposite effect. Renji calmed down, his eyes were no longer glazed over with rage. A sort of serenity came over him, and his blood seemed to have slowed down. He sat down again.

"I am not," he said.

Ichigo sat down next to him. He needed him composed.

"You didn't hear a word Aizen said?" the teen asked.

"No. It... Somehow… Shit, I just lost it," Renji admitted.

"Well, under the honey-coated words he basically said he's taking over."

"WHAT?"

"Yeah. He went on about our duty to make the order stronger, to make it as it once was, the ultimate power which governed people. Shit, Renji, we're talking about taking Kuchiki Byakuya down, about reinstating the old anything-goes rule."

"What rule?"

"That book, Directions in Dream Walking. It says all about how dangerous it is, how it should be abolished. How it controls people. How people have no real choice in their actions. Think about it. You can't even dream about doing something wrong. I mean, dreams, man. They're defined as something that is not real, something that is a reflection of our subconscious without the chains of morality bounding it. And we punish people according to something they cannot control."

Renji knew precisely what the book meant. He knew what it felt to be invaded, to be attacked at the place you are most vulnerable. He also knew what it felt like to do it to another. It always felt wrong. Like the worst sort of rape. But as usual, he just allowed life to push him around, to bring him into the heart of darkness and make him one of the most promising trainees. Fuck. For the first time in his life he excelled at something other than fighting, and the thing he excelled at had to be destroyed.

"I'm going to talk to Ulquiorra about the book, Renji. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe they don't intend to take over and declare _**martial**_ law, but still, I have to know for sure. If they don't, which I sincerely doubt, we can take our time, talk to your Kuchiki Byakuya, make him see."

"He's not mine," Renji protested.

"Renji, that's hardly the point here."

"I know," he muttered. "Still, I think it's a bad idea. You're gonna get yourself…"

"Killed? Probably."

"We can think of something else," Renji insisted.

"Of what? Can you talk to your… to Kuchiki-sama?"

"No."

"Well, that was the only alternative. To let the First know what might be going on. If he will not listen to you, the only other option is for me to try and get confirmation that they are trying to fuck things up even more. It's bad as it is, but at least there are some rules now."

Renji saw the logic behind Ichigo's determination, but he did not want the kid to sacrifice himself for a mere confirmation of something they pretty much knew.

"I know how you feel, Ichigo, but we need to think of a way which would not risk your life."

It felt ridiculous saying that, because he himself was prepared to forego his life in an attempt to take them all down.

"Don't get me wrong, Renji, but you don't know how I feel. The idea that my little sisters and my quirky father are getting brainwashed into submission every night makes me wanna kill somebody. And if that somebody has to be me, so be it. I can't sit idly by, knowing that my family will lead a half-life, it sickens me..." his voice trailed off and he felt tears fill his eyes.

"I can't believe how proud we all were when I managed to enter the order. How fucking happy my father was. _That _is the worst part, the fact that people are so used to this crap, they are incapable of realizing it as wrong and injurious."

It was non-negotiable, Renji realized. When carrot-top decided to do something, there was little that could be done to stop him. He was going to go at them with a vengeance. Renji found himself silently praying that they were wrong, that Ulquiorra was actually a nice guy, and that Aizen had the best intentions for the people of Fenore. It was an empty plea made to a non-existent god.

"Well, I'm not letting you go alone," Renji said.

"That's very noble of you, old man, but you're not thinking clearly."

"What do you mean?"

"If we both go, who'll be left to know that there something wrong here?"

"If something happens to me, you'll have to bring these motherfuckers down."

"What, you think I could do that singlehandedly?"

"Yeah, I do. I think if you're pissed enough you could. But you're forgetting about Byakuya."

"That's a dead end." Ichigo disregarded Renji's claim. Somehow he felt that Kuchiki Byakuya would come through.

"And another thing. I'm sure you'll become a priest rather soon, and you must be careful not to fuck that up, no matter what happens to me. We need an inside man. And I need you to find a way to take care of my family, to tell them what happened to me."

"Shit, Kurosaki, you can't expect me to sit idly by while..."

"Oh, and seeing that I'm making you do things for me...would you kiss me? The way you would kiss that cold dream walker of yours. The one you're not in love with."

Renji stared at the teen for a while, unable to understand how a boy of only 15 could have such determination and disregard of self, and he realized he wanted to kiss him.

He pulled the boy onto his lap, kissing him goodbye.


	6. Victory

_It was an ethereal scene, one possible only in a dream. Pearly sand shimmering in the morning sun stretched out as far as the eye could see. The gentle ripples of the azure sea filled the air with a hum which appeased the soul. Patchy clouds covered the sky like cotton candy, pink from the rising sun. There was a sense of peace and serenity which for so long eluded Renji's mind. He wanted to feel the warm sand with his bare feet, he wanted to walk into the calm sea and feel the mild waves caress his troubled mind. But he was not there. He could only perceive the scene and enjoy it with his mind's eye. And it felt enough. It offered redemption and consolation he needed so much, even if it was merely in a dream._

_But it was not to end like that, with peace and serenity spreading through his subconscious. He noticed a big bed on the beach. It felt as if it materialized from his mind's inability to endure beauty. The bed cast no shadow, even though the sun had glided high up from the slippery horizon. There were two figures there. Their bodies warm and soft, aching for each other. He was still not there. Not in that bed with Byakuya. His mind only filled the atmosphere, allowing him to take in every single detail. Why was he doing this to himself? Why did he once again push Ulquiorra and Byakuya together? The distant violence of the last dream made sense. But this tenderness in Ulquiorra's eyes, and pliability of Byakuya's body under him made no sense whatsoever._

_He felt something weird when Byakuya grabbed Ulquiorra's shoulders and pleaded him: _

"_Please, I want you inside of me." It was not Ulquiorra's smile that made Renji wince with incredulity, but Byakuya's needy words, the mild tremor in his voice. The dream walker never pleaded so earnestly. No. Even when he begged Renji to take him, his eyes never shone with pure desire. There was always defiance and self-loathing mixed with the desire to have Renji inside of him. Renji never really noticed that Byakuya had never fully relinquished control. Even if it was only in his stern voice, or in the faint glimmer of his steel gray eyes, there was always defiance in the dream walker, a defiance Renji liked and wanted to break into million pieces. _

_Suddenly, Ulquiorra looked away from Byakuya's naked figure beneath him, and Renji realized he had finally gained a body. He grinned at Ulquiorra's dead stare, and said nothing. Byakuya lifted his head and looked over at Renji, whose red hair danced like fire in the rising wind of his mind; his eyes adamant._

"_Renji..." Byakuya moaned with a need that was not his, that was not Renji's. The dream walker smiled lasciviously, tracing Ulquiorra's lips with a finger. It was an invitation to join their perverse little party. Renji never had an interest in sharing Byakuya with anyone. Not even this Byakuya whose hair was not dark enough, whose eyes reflected no stern intelligence, no unwavering decisiveness._

_As the redhead glided over the sand, Ulquiorra could feel the body and the bed beneath him melt into the beach. In a second he was on his hands and knees before the towering image of Renji._

"_So," Renji whispered, pulling Ulquiorra to his feet, "you thought you could trick me twice?"_

_It should have been impossible for Renji to take over the dream, to keep Ulquiorra subdued in it. _

_From the pearly sand, a large pillar sprung, piercing through the sky. The sea turned red, and the sand blackened beneath their feet. _

"_Remind you of something?" Renji gnarled. Ulquiorra closed his eyes and tried to wake up, but Renji's strong hands around his neck kept him pinned to the cold pillar to which his ankles and wrists were bound._

"_Why?" the redhead whispered into Ulquiorra's ear, and the single word carried through the expanse of the dream like __**war cry**__._

_Before Renji could hear his answer, Ulquiorra managed to wriggle out of the dream that escaped his control._

* * *

><p>The Third woke up gasping for air, still unable to believe that his ruse was unsuccessful. Renji should have grown accustomed to his presence by now, he should not have noticed that the dream was Ulquiora's creation. They have underestimated the newcomer. He rose from his futon. He had to tell Aizen-sama what had happened. The plan had to be changed, because it has become painfully obvious that Renji was not to be taken lightly. Before Ulquiorra managed to take his robe out of the closet, he felt the familiar grip around his neck, pinning him to the wall.<p>

"What? You thought I was done with you?" Renji whispered, a murderous grin contorting his features. He squeezed the thin neck , eager to hear it snap. Ulquiorra made a series of unintelligible sounds, that might have been intended to form a sentence. Renji did not care.

"Yes. I'm a fast learner. That's why you gave me private lessons. Did it not occur to you how _fast_ I might _learn_ about your sick little hobby?"

Byakuya's screams from the first dream were still audible, he could still feel the man's desire to be released from the agonizing dream. Although Renji learned that it was all a dream, and that he was not the one who put Byakuya through such torture, it still tore him apart every time he closed his eyes. Every blink brought those terrible images back.

He loosened his grip to give Ulquiorra a chance to answer the question that still lingered between them.

"Why?" Renji managed through his teeth, his growing desire to break Ulquiorra's neck not subsiding even as he loosened his grip. It took Renji only one moment of calm to gaze into Ulquiorra's dull eyes to know he would not get an answer.

"I should break your fucking neck..." he whispered in despair as he released Ulquiorra. He knew that the man in front of him would not betray even a speck of fear, even if he believed the threat. There was no way to get the truth from a man who had no sense of self. Renji took a few steps back, not taking his eyes from his teacher.

"It's him, isn't it? He told you to do it. You have no fucking willpower of your own, you damn parasite."

He did not wait for an answer, he just turned around and left. As he walked out into the night, every single cell in his body screamed in warning. But he was not prepared to listen. That beast and its master had some sort of a plan. If he doubted it before, now he was sure of it. The smartest thing would be to just keep on walking and never stop. The most prudent course of action would be to simply walk out of the monastery and run, but he was never really good at running away from a fight, regardless of how smart or prudent it might prove. And then there was Ichigo, or better still, there was no Ichigo. It was as if the boy had never existed, as if he had been Renji's imaginary friend, helping him to cope with his loneliness.

Renji sat down on the steps of the household, trying to calm his mind, trying to decide what he should do.


End file.
